My Enemy's Eyes
by nivona
Summary: When soldier Sam Evans is shot, Nurse Hummel is sent to look after him. Sparks fly between the beaten soldier and frustrated nurse and, as they say, the rest is history.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: So I'm back! This is just a short AU story, it'll go for maybe 5 - 10 chapters. It's set in war times, blah blah blah. I'll have the second by tomorrow, hopefully. And in answer to your questions my Faberry story is taking longer than I thought - it's a long one, so just be patient. Review if you like, otherwise I'll be back tomorrow! Also, I couldn't resist the little 'honourable' line - it was asking to be used!**

**Also, the title of this is based of the song by Coldplay called Viva La Vida! **

**Enjoy! :)**

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><p>"Mr Hummel, a little assistance!"<p>

Kurt makes his way through the mess of bloody bodies, coughing as the smoke leeches through his lungs. He expertly pulls the thin paper mask over his lips and ducks his way through the mess of bleeding, moaning people.

He's used to it now … the noise, the death, the constant pain that seeps through his skin every day. He's used to been woken up in the middle of the night to treat a commanding officer, or being treated badly by the sergeants because he's '_too much of a lady_.' He's used to the things that, ultimately should be bringing him down … but he still loves this.

He's been with the army for nearly a year now. They've been at this same, disgusting, rotting camp and Kurt has seen the same cases over and over again. Men who were purposely shot at, men who've lost limbs in bombs, been run over by army trucks …

At first it was heartbreaking but now he just concentrates on his one goal: saving the people that can be saved. There's no point wasting precious time on men that can never be rehabilitated and Kurt is just beginning to realize this.

So he smooths the dirty white cotton over his dirty skin and approaches the bed in the emergency wing. A bomb just dropped a few miles away and there's a heavy stream of men being shoved into the already over-capacitated hospital tent.

"Mr Hummel, he's arresting!"

Kurt jumps to the bed on his left, his eyes flickering over a blonde man that couldn't be more than a year older than himself. The man has a deep gash under his left eye and is bleeding heavily through his thick army jacket. What shocks Kurt is the fact that the man is _conscious. _His lucid green eyes are wide and staring at Kurt through sweaty blonde hair as he splutters through bloody lips. Kurt can only guess that they're explanations of pain coming from the man's mouth.

"What's his name?" Kurt mutters to the nurse next to him as he rids the man of his bloody jacket.

"He's soldier Sam Evans – he was one of the men who were taken unprepared. A bomb hit their campsite when they were resting."

Kurt purses his lips – forcing himself not to feel sorry for Mr. Sam Evans. He can't let his hatred of this unfair war get in the way of his job … and right now, his job is to save Sam's life.

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><p>"Good morning, Mr Evans," Kurt smiles down at the blonde man. "And how are we feeling today?"<p>

Kurt's quick fingers dance along the stiches on Sam's cheek. The worn soldier is attractive, Kurt realizes, even under the bruises and scars of battle.

"On top of the world," Sam croaks, although the definite strain in his voice says otherwise.

Kurt sighs. Even after being seriously injured and in a critical condition, Mr. Evans is putting on a brave face. Typical soldiers.

"I'm going to redress the wounds on your chest, okay?" Kurt offers a smile and pulls up the hospital gown covering Sam's chest.

Kurt's eyes flicker over Sam's chest and he swallows appreciatively. The soldier _is _good looking, even through the bloody dressings and grey, painful looking bruises – but Kurt can't let his attractions get in the way of his job. Since being conscripted as a nurse to Base Camp 401, Kurt has learnt to suppress himself.

The people in this line don't appreciate _his kind_ – that's how they refer to him. His status as a person is lessened due to his sexuality, so he's just learnt to shove that all away. Suppress himself entirely; it ends in frustration but he has no other choice. So, Kurt swallows his attraction and slips his fingers under the smallest bandage earning a shiver from the full lipped soldier.

"What's your name?" The croak coming from the soldier's throat sounds painful but the grin on his lips makes Kurt smile back.

"I … I'm Kurt Hummel," he smiles, before turning his attention back to Sam's bandages. Sam coughs a little, his eyes following Kurt's movements.

"You have very talented hands, Mr. Hummel." The smirk on the beaten soldiers lips distracts Kurt more than it should, so the blushing nurse averts his gaze, smiling tightly and pouring his attention into dressing Sam's wounds.

"You're recovering well," Kurt comments. "At this rate, you'll be out of here in a week."

Sam coughs again, gesturing for Kurt to stop dressing his wounds. Kurt stops promptly, his hands resting on the ridges of Sam's chest – Sam's very toned, very tanned albeit beaten chest.

"They won't let me fight though," the blonde soldier splutters. "I've messed up my lungs. The best thing I'm good for now is stacking supplies in the medicine wing."

Kurt frowns. "Y-you … You _want _to fight?"

Sam meets Kurt's eyes and for one intense moment, the constant noise, the bustling of the hospital seems to fade out and it's only Kurt and Sam.

Sam and Kurt.

"Of course I do," Sam breathes. "I want to do what's right for my country."

"Well," Kurt purses his lips, glancing back down at Sam's chest. "That's very honourable of you, soldier."

"Please," the wounded army man breathes. "Call me Sam."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: This is a short chapter, because I'm working on something else right now. It cuts off a bit abruptly but don't worry, I'll make up for it in my next chapter. ;) Thanks for everyone that subscribed - I didn't think anyone would and I'm amazed at how many people did! So the pressure is on to keep writing now! **

**I hope you enjoy it!**

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><p>It's nights like these Kurt thinks about his family, his friends … all the people he left behind when he was called up to assist the army. As he sits outside his tent, staring up at the murky black sky, fogged up with smoke and the result of gun fire in the east, he's – once again – wondering about the point of this.<p>

This war, the meaningless deaths, the pain and loss … It's all for nothing. It's pointless and –

"Hey."

Kurt looks up, expecting another nurse or – worse – a general. The general's seem to get mad at his very existence, but in the one or two cases that they've found Kurt out of bed, they don't hold back in the punishment. Instead, Kurt squints through the darkness and is shocked to see the blonde hair of the soldier from earlier. Sam Evans.

Kurt jumps to his feet, not feeling the slightest bit drowsy despite the time of night … He doesn't sleep much, these days. It's the constant noise of the night. It gets to him. He's afraid of his peers and bosses. Fear is the poison of sleep, it drains away all hopes of escaping this war and the devastation that comes with it.

"You're meant to be resting!" Kurt splutters, letting his eyes trail over the beaten soldier. He's wearing a tight, white, tank top - the army supplies hundreds of them - and, _oh god__, _he wears it well. Kurt can't help but stare, just for a second, at the subtle definition of muscles in Sam's forearm, he has to suppress his impulse of trailing his fingers along the tanned, hard, skin.

Sam just shrugs, reaching into the pocket of his cargo pants and pulling out a pack of cigarettes. "Do you smoke?" He asks, placing a smoke between those full lips.

Kurt shakes his head, watching intently as Sam sucks the cigarette, huffing smoke out of his nose. "You really should be in bed," he comments. Even in the darkness, Kurt can see the bags under Sam's eyes, the cut in his swollen cheek looks like it may be infected and only in the reflection of the moonlight can Kurt see a faded scar on the curve of Sam's neck. It looks like the ever-lasting reminder of battle and Sam is the kind of man to wear his scars with pride, Kurt can tell. It's funny, because Kurt has a scar similar to that on his own neck, of course _his _scar is the result of a broken mirror, and a curious albeit clumsy child - he has no pride over how he received it, nothing like Sam.

"I feel fine, nurse." Sam smirks. "Besides, I saw you leaving the sleeping cabins and couldn't resist following you out."

Kurt looks down, suppressing the blush that is flaming across his cheeks. _Stop being an idiot, _he tells himself firmly, _you have a job to do - that's all it is. A job. _He wants nothing more than to talk with Sam, find out everything about the attractive soldier - pick his brains - but, as Kurt has found in the past, soldiers like Sam rarely want anything to do with him.

"Well, don't let anyone see you talking to me," Kurt says quietly.

Sam raises an eyebrow, letting the smoke filter through his lips and scratching at some of his messy blonde hair wincing slightly as he raises his arm. "Why wouldn't I want to be seen with you?" He grins at Kurt through the darkness. "You're cute."

_Oh. _Oh. He's never had anyone call him cute before - let alone a smouldering hot, injured, soldier. Kurt's blush deepens further and he looks away, under how to react to the blonde man's compliments. Sam steps closer, careful not to blow smoke in Kurt's face. Kurt can't stand the heat dancing between their bodies, almost moulding them together in the cool spring night.

"T-thank you," he stammers.

Sam steps forward again, the cigarette hanging between his lips, his green eyes settling on Kurt. He continues stepping forward until their bodies are painfully close – already Kurt is aching to be touched, aching to break the unbearable heat of the tension between them. His eyes are trained on Sam's lips, on the trail of smoke erupting from them – it's hypnotising and so _goddamn _attractive.

"Why are you talking to me?" The words fall from Kurt's mouth before he can stop them. He doesn't want to be nervous and awkward, but the question is out in the air before he has time to pull it back.

Sam hesitates, lifting a hand and pushing back Kurt's hair, letting his fingertips dance along the curve of Kurt's cheek. "You're interesting, Mr. Hummel."

And with that he stomps out his cigarette and walks away.

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><p>The heel of Kurt's palm is rubbing against the bulge in his pants and the breath escapes his mouth in fast, gasping pants. He pushes harder, his hips arching against his hand as he aches for the friction he needs to get himself off.<p>

He's thinking about Sam and those full lips. Those arms, covered in scars of battle - proud scars that Kurt wants to run his tongue over. Although, that's not the only part of Sam's body that Kurt wishes he could run his tongue over. He's infatuated by the soldier and he can't blame himself. He's never had someone so handsome show the slightest interest in him - this is a completely new experience. He's imagining those very lips wrapped around his cock in a deliciously seductive way. He grinds against his palm harder, hoping to relieve the throbbing between his legs. He's biting his lip now, trying not to moan as hips move faster against his palm and the images of soldier Sam Evans become more and more prominent in his mind. Lips sucking, hands fucking …

"_Oh. _Oh god - "

"Hummel? Is that you?"

Kurt has just seconds to jump to his feet and try to disguise his bulging erection before Sam is striding into his sleeping quarters. Oh god, this man knows where he _ sleeps_. How is that even possible? Kurt is caught between that agonizing limbo of falling into his delicious orgasm, he is teetering on the edge and the result is exceedingly painful as his body stiffens in response to the voice. He's on his feet, trying not to double over and trying desperately to suppress his arousal.

Sam stops short, the grin dancing wide across his lips as Kurt attempts to regain control of his breathing. "Am I interrupting something, nurse Hummel?" Sam's eyes are wide and the smile on his lips is appreciative.

Kurt flushes, adjusting his shirt. "No, no, I was just … getting dressed. What are you doing here, anyway? It's early."

Sam lets out a shuddery breath, stepping closer to the flustered nurse and puffing his cheeks out as his eyes rake over Kurt's tense body. "Doesn't look that way, Hummel," he winks. "I'm here because I _told_ you, that they won't let me go back fighting. It's my first day as a medical assistants aid and you are an assistant – a very sexy one, might I add – and you look like you could use some … ah, aid, Kurt."

Kurt almost groans at the way Sam purrs his name. His cock is throbbing, he can already feel the heat building in his stomach from his little moment earlier. The orgasm is fighting it's way through his body, his cock twitching in a constant mixture of pleasure and pain. Sam's eyes flicker to Kurt's crotch and Kurt is sure that Sam knows exactly what is going on.

"I … I don't need any help," Kurt's breath hitches when Sam steps even closer – impossibly close – and slips a finger inside the loop of Kurt's belt, pulling the blushing nurse even closer to him.

This intimacy feels odd after almost a year of being abstinent and Kurt wants to cry with the heat. It's something he's craved for so long ... something he's try so hard not to feel. But now it's here and Sam is standing so close and _oh god_, those lips are taunting him.

"I think you definitely could use my help, Kurt," Sam breathes, his full lips moving against Kurt's ear lobe. Hot breath dances across Kurt's face as Sam presses his body hard against the smaller man and, _yep_, Kurt is sure that Sam can feel his straining erection. There's no getting around it now. He's caught. Sam's lips are brushing just softly against the soft skin of Kurt's cheek, and Sam relishes the feeling of Kurt's body shuddering against his own – sending electric shocks crackling up his spine.

"In all honesty, Mr. Hummel," Sam breathes, chasing the rise and fall of Kurt's toned chest with his fingertips, lingering on the sensitive spot of his hip bone before slipping his hand under Kurt's shirt and stroking the exposed skin. Kurt is frozen, his eyes locked on Sam, small breaths fluttering from his lips every few seconds. "I think you would very much appreciate my help."


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Oh come on now, 3 reviews and over 150 subscribers? I see how it is! Not really, but reviews would be nice because they make me smile and also, I love hearing what you think and how you'd like things to go! :D**

**Anyway, as I've mentioned before this is AU, so Sam obviously isn't in character with his geeky self in this story, that's why his characteristics are a little different. But, I hope you enjoy this chapter!**

**Also, this isn't the last chapter, just saying! (:**

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><p>Kurt can't suppress his moan as Sam's hand dances lower, before settling on pressing just lightly against the lump in Kurt's pants. "Yes, I think you could <em>definitely<em> use my help."

Kurt's hips arch against Sam's hand, desperate for the friction that Sam is all too happy to give to the aroused nurse. Sam meets Kurt's eyes, giving him one last questioning glance before letting his lips find their way to Kurt's. He stops just short of the kiss, enjoying the desperate expression on the nurse's face.

"I knew there was something special about you, Nurse Hummel," he breathes, before falling into the kiss.

Kurt moans as the toned soldier slips his tongue into his mouth. The kiss is firm, only resulting in a more prominent ache between Kurt's legs. Sam's teeth graze the bottom of Kurt's lip as he rubs Kurt through his pants. The men are moving against each other, breathing hard as Sam brings Kurt closer and closer to the edge - closer than he was just minutes ago - his hand rubbing harder and faster, before he takes the plunge and slips his hand under the waist band of Kurt's pants.

Instead of falling completely apart at Sam's touch, Kurt is on alert. He knows that most of Base Camp 401 will be waking up now and he _knows _that they can't be caught. Homosexuality isn't a sin around here - most of the soldiers don't even have a preferred religion - but it sure as hell won't earn you any respect. And if they are caught they'll be receiving more than a slap on the wrists for fraternizing with one another - not to mention the awful talk.

But Sam seems to be making it exceedingly difficult for Kurt to be on alert as his long fingers trail up the length of Kurt's aching cock. The more Kurt tries to be on alert, the more Sam seems determined to bring the nurse to pieces.

"We … We shouldn't be doing this," Kurt gasps, heaving against Sam's shoulder. "We need to get to, _ah_, work."

Sam chuckles, moving harder against Kurt's body. "But you don't what that, do you?"

He was already on the edge. When Sam walked into his sleeping quarters, when he got caught between that fine line of pleasure and pain. And, now, all too quickly, it's back again. To be honest Kurt couldn't tell up from down right now, let alone verbalise what he wants. He's fighting it but Sam's hand is moving vigorously, bringing him closer and closer to the edge. It seems that the soldier enjoys having the power over someone like Kurt – someone who's frustrated and biting into his neck.

"_Oh god_, I'm gonna - "

Two things happen at once, then. Kurt lets out a sharp breath, bucking against Sam's hand and coming hard. Sam smiles as Kurt falls apart against him, soaking his palm, leaving scratch marks down his back. He's at the mercy of a soldier he hardly knows and he's never felt anything so erotic. Kurt is shuddering into Sam's neck, breathing hard as his walls come crashing down around him and his body explodes with that liquid hot pleasure. The pleasure that happens once every blue moon – the kind of heat that people _rave _about in those romantic stories Kurt reads at night.

The second thing that happens is the crackle of Kurt's radio and the voice of the head nurse comes buzzing through his room. "Mr. Hummel, we need you in the burns bay now. I repeat, Hummel, burns bay, _now_."

Kurt groans loudly, extracting himself from Sam's arms, breathing hard and collapsing onto his bed, aware of the stickiness in his pants and the pounding of his heart. He's embarrassed that Sam managed to control him like that, he's embarrassed that he was so quickly, so readily, at the mercy of someone he hardly knows.

"I have to go," Kurt mutters, stripping off his soiled pants and sleep shirt. Sam grins widely, appreciating the view as Kurt bends to retrieve his work clothes and Kurt blushes deeply.

He hates the thoughts passing through his head, _dirty, wrong, trash … _He doesn't want quickies. He doesn't want muffled orgasms in bathroom stalls, or quick blow jobs behind the workers tents … He's heard of those people – even witnessed some of them in their lowest moments and they're cheap.

He's Kurt Hummel and he does _not_ want to be cheap.

He wants to be swept off his feet like in the books. He wants to blush and look away, and feel his heart swelling with love.

He doesn't want to fuck Sam – okay, well maybe he does a little – he wants someone who will pursue him, someone who will wait in the pouring rain with twelve dozen roses, singing his name for the whole world to hear.

He doesn't want to be at the mercy of a soldier who's family probably doesn't even know he likes men - a soldier, who most likely, just wants to get off and get out.

"I'll be with you all day anyway, helping you ... teasing you," Sam purrs. "Maybe we can - "

"No, _no_." Kurt cuts him off, standing up straight and flushing red. "No, that was wrong. I can't – we can't – it's not_ … "_ his voice is cracking, transforming into that high pitched noise that it does when he's angry. "Sam, I'm not the kind of guy you think I am, I'm sorry but you have to go."

Sam's smile falls, his hands drop from Kurt's shoulders. "Kurt, I - "

"No!" Kurt shakes his head, pushing the blonde soldier away. "_Please_, ugh_, _just go." It's killing Kurt. It's killing him knowing what he just did, knowing how stupid it was. He regrets it. Already.

Nothing good will come of it, just more shame, more embarrassment.

"Fine," Sam's breathes, turning away. "I'll go."

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><p>The hospital wing is a mess of bloody skin and putrid scents. But Kurt just smiles and continues with his job, busying his mind, forcing all thoughts, wonderings and memories from this morning away. It's over.<p>

Actually no, it's not over. How can it be over if it didn't even _begin_?

The other nurses – mostly all sexually frustrated females in their 30s – are all gossiping among themselves and fluttering over the new assistant, the injured soldier with blonde hair and full lips.

Kurt just rolls his eyes and continues with his work.

Why did he have to do it? Why did he have to go and ruin a perfectly good, potential friendship? Just for the sex? For the thrills?

The words are repeating like a mantra in his head, _Not that kind of man, not that kind of man … _All Sam wanted was to fool around, and Kurt just can't do that.

He can't be the man that everyone talks about – everyone laughs about. The cheap whore caught with their pants down. He won't do that. Not in the army and not back at home. He'll never be that person.

His job is to save lives.

He saved Sam Evan's life and now he just has to get on with the rest of his job.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Sorry I didn't update sooner, a flurry of Christmas shopping and end of year exams kept me busy. Thank you for the reviews and oh my gosh everyone that subscribed, kjshfksdjhf, there's so many people. I love you all. Any spelling mistakes are my own fault and the result of too much Mountain Dew and too little sleep!**

**I hope you enjoy this little chapter! There probably won't be another update until after Christmas, so hopefully this tides you through. :) **

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><p>"A little off your game tonight, eh lady?"<p>

"Oh, lady fingers, I need a little help over here!"

"Hey, missy, get back to the ladies rooms!"

Kurt ducked his head, walking quickly through the food hall. He was used to it now, used to the looks and the stares by the soldiers. To hate on someone based on their sexuality was the lowest of lows, but it was clear that these soldiers had no issue with morals.

Kurt couldn't be sure if Sam had spoken about the _incident_ to anyone else – although he guessed not_. _His guess was that Sam was one of those cowardly men who brushed their attractions and sexuality under the carpet. He figured Sam would never be as brave as he was.

_I _am_ brave_, that was Kurt's mantra. He told himself everyday, he reassured himself, because, honestly? Who else was going to?

What got to Kurt was the fact that he didn't know _what _kind of man Sam was, he had no character to base him off, no previous knowledge of him besides coming into his palm – a quick, fumbled, embrace. No conversations, no getting to know one another.

That's not how Kurt had wanted to do it.

Kurt shuddered, as the memories raked through him. He _had _been sexually frustrated, getting aroused at the tiniest things, so maybe Sam was exactly what he'd needed – maybe he could simply write it off as a one time thing. He'd needed it and Sam had been all too happy to give it to him.

Lowering his eyes and shoving his hands deep in his pockets, Kurt hurried to his sleeping quarters, thankful to leave the rude soldiers and all thoughts of Sam Evans behind.

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><p>He couldn't sleep.<p>

No matter how hard he tried, how many sheep he counted or how many thoughts he shoved from his overtired brain, he couldn't sleep. He thought about Soldier Sam, and his family back home. Kurt had had a string of boyfriends before being conscripted as a nurse in the army, but they never … he never felt …

… he never felt like he did with Sam. The danger, the fear of being caught, the intensity and the quickness made the whole experience intensely unbelievable, it was breathtaking.

But wrong.

So, _so_, wrong. Kurt was a man with morals! He didn't settle for this – for hiding away, fearing what other people thought of him. He would never settle for anything less than what he deserved.

Because he deserved the very best. That's what his mother had told him all those years ago when he came out to her, but that was before …

He shook his head, not wanting to travel down that all-too-painful train of thought. He couldn't think about his mother, not when the pit of grief was still heavy in his stomach. Not when the pain was still all too fresh, despite the fact that it had been years … And so Kurt stumbled out of his uncomfortable bed.

He couldn't keep thinking, he hated his thoughts and he hated being alone with them. He hated that those other soldiers had gotten to him earlier and he especially hated that goddamn Sam Evans and his lips and his smile and shoulders and hair hadn't treated him like crap.

On the contrary, actually, Sam Evans had treated him quite well. And it was _that _that made it so much harder for Kurt to hate him.

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><p>Seeing him was inevitable.<p>

Kurt knew, as he walked out of the hospital bay on Friday afternoon that he was going to run into Sam at one point or another. He also knew that he would make sure things went his way; this time, he would be the one in control.

So when Kurt turned to someone calling his name, he was more than prepared to face up to Sam – to tell the soldier that they had been a onetime thing and to never talk to him again. Until Kurt's eyes locked on the battered soldier; what Kurt had _not _prepared for, it seemed, was to see Sam dripping wet and topless.

Kurt swallowed. Hard.

"Could you give me a hand?" Sam said gruffly. "This … pump … broke and I can't. Quite. Fix it." He was speaking between grunts as he grasped hold of the water pump in the ground – the pump that led straight to the Hospital wing.

Kurt couldn't ignore him – hospitals without water were like humans with no air, it didn't work – but the nurse was getting quickly distracted by the strain of Sam's muscles as he grabbed the water pump.

"Don't mess around!" The worn soldier snapped, as Kurt shook his head, willing to stop himself from staring. "Come and help me!"

Kurt gulped, before jogging over to the pump. He'd had to fix this pump before and it wouldn't be an easy feat with just two people, but it seemed that everybody else was otherwise occupied. So Kurt reached over, hesitantly grasping the part of the pump that Sam couldn't keep a hold on and twisting hard.

It wasn't going to budge soon, but Kurt pressed on, hoping his and Sam's combined strength would somehow stem the flow of water splashing out of it.

"Come closer," Sam muttered through gritted teeth. "Standing that far away isn't going to help, I'm not going to bite."

_Oh god_.

Kurt didn't bother mentioning that the thought of being bitten by Sam didn't scare him whatsoever. In fact, Kurt was struggling to keep his arousal in check, even now.

_No._

Kurt shoved his energy into stemming the flow of water spewing from the pipe when Sam grabbed Kurt by the collar, dragging him in closer to help with the pipe. Both boys were soaking now, Kurt could feel his white shirt turning see through but he didn't care about that – all he could focus on right now was fixing the pipe and not looking at Sam.

Because, god, the soldier was attractive; his hair was all plastered to his forehead, his chest wet and dripping … damn. It was most definitely a distracting sight.

For a moment, the boys were silent – bar a few grunts here and there – as they attempted to get the pump under control. Sam was struggling for breath, his muscles shaking as he gripped the pump, attempting to twist it back into place. Kurt was gripping the pump too, but his eyes were focused on Sam. God, he made it so hard to hate him – he made it so hard to keep his morals.

"Fuck … this won't … _stick_," Sam muttered, shoving the pipe hard.

Kurt was losing his grip, his fingers were slipping and he stepped forward. Sam stepped behind Kurt, grabbing the pipe and pulling it forward.

Oh god, how was Kurt supposed to concentrate when Sam was pressing against him like that, muscles straining, hips moving as he thrust the pipe against him? How was Kurt meant to _breathe_ with Sam pressing against him like that?

Kurt was still losing his grip, and his footing, and his mind. His fingers were slipping on the wet plastic of the pump as he and Sam worked together to pull it into place.

"One the count of three we give it one _hard_ pull," Sam muttered against Kurt's ear. There was no way that Kurt could ignore the way Sam's breath was coming an jagged pants against his ear, or the way the soldiers hips were rocking forward, grinding against Kurt in an absolutely delectable manner.

"One … "

They gripped the pipe tight, Kurt scrunching his eyes shut, praying that this would work. He had to get away from Sam as soon as possible, before doing something stupid … like ripping off those soaking pants and taking him right there.

"Two … "

Sam was breathing hard, his chest heaving against Kurt's back, his hips rocking forward, pushing Kurt into a constant state of arousal. The men groaned as the pipe slipped against their fingers and they tried to regain control. Sam's shoulders were straining against Kurt's back, his pelvis thrusting forward as he dragged the pipe forward.

"Three!"

With a gush of breath and a particularly big spout of water, they fell backwards. "Fuck," Sam's voice was merely a breath of air against Kurt's ear as Kurt fell backwards, slipping in the sludgy water. The pipe was pulled into place, but the boys were covered in mud.

Kurt was on his feet before Sam could say anything, wiping mud from his eyes, hair and arms. He was absolutely caked in it … and sporting a very obvious erection.

"Thanks," Sam grinned up at the nurse. His eyes trailing over Kurt's muddy body. "I needed your help."

"Okay, yeah, okay. I have to … go. Yeah, bye," Kurt was slipping and stumbling to find words as he stared down at the shirtless Sam – who, despite the fact that he was covered in mud, had never looked so attractive.

Kurt had spun around and was briskly walking towards the bathing tent, when he felt an arm on his shoulder.

"Come on," it was Sam breathing in his ear. "Let's get you _cleaned up."_

His voice was that purr, that purr that had been plaguing Kurt since he first heard it, the purr that sent all his blood rushing down south, that had his heard thudding in his chest.

It was that purr that came seductively from Sam's lips, that Kurt absolutely couldn't refuse.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: I have about two more chapters planned out before the end. That may extend to three, but we'll see. I hope you enjoy it!**

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><p>"Stop, stop, stop," Kurt was mumbling over and over, as Sam placed frenzied kisses on his cheekbones and neck.<p>

It turned out, Sam wasn't listening to what the flustered nurse was saying – only how his body was reacting. And right now, Kurt's body was giving Sam the absolute green light to continue what he was doing.

Kurt's eyes fluttered closed as Sam trailed those full lips along the skin of his neck, then down towards his damp collarbone. Both boys were still soaked from the water pump incident, but Kurt felt as if the temperature in the bathing tent was scalding.

Kurt had two fears, as he felt Sam ridding him of his wet shirt, shucking it from his shoulders and letting it fall to the floor in a pile of wet fabric. The first fear: that someone – _anyone _– would walk in. No one _usually _occupied the showers at this time of day, but there were always a few stragglers. They were in a shower cubicle, but it wasn't impossible that someone wouldn't pull open the curtain without thinking.

The second thing that Kurt was afraid of: Sam. He was afraid of how he was feeling – how quickly Sam could get under Kurt's skin, how easily the soldier could morph Kurt's emotions into something he could work with.

They kissed, hard. Kurt was pressed against the shower wall, as Sam grinded against him, trailing desperate kisses along his jaw line, neck and lips. Kurt – despite his hesitations and struggle – had never felt anything better. Even as he tried to fight it, he wanted desperately to fall into the embrace with no fears or worries … but he couldn't. He couldn't do it.

Not like this.

And so, he struggled against Sam's roaming lips, against the hands that were causing him to shudder. It was only as Sam's fingers were working on Kurt's soaked belt when Kurt finally got the courage to push him away.

"_Stop_!" Kurt's voice was broken, his chest heaving. His skin was crawling – a painful combination of arousal, frustration and anger. If his body had its way, he'd be letting Sam ravish him against the bathroom wall.

As it was, he was struggling not to just let that happen. The thought of being absolutely, completely at Sam's mercy again was more than a little desirable; and a little scary, but very desirable, all the same.

So why was Kurt fighting it?

Sam said nothing. His chest was heaving, also, the very obvious bulge in his wet pants was distracting Kurt and Kurt struggled as he tried to remember what he was going to say.

"I … This … _Sam_."

"What?" Sam's voice was merely a breath as he stepped closer to Kurt. "What's wrong, sweetie?"

Kurt shook his head quickly, stepping backwards until his shoulders hit the shower wall. "Don't call me that!"

"I'm sorry … " Sam said slowly. "Did I do something wrong?"

Kurt's hands were shaking, and when Sam took his hands, he didn't have the heart to pull away. His body wanted this, and yeah, so did his heart. He was _lonely_. It had been _so _long – too long – since had been close with someone.

But his heart was also protecting itself, because, Kurt knew, that Sam couldn't give him what he needed – though, maybe, the attractive soldier could give Kurt exactly what he wanted.

Well, what part of him wanted. A very hard part of him.

"You did nothing wrong," Kurt looked down, because he couldn't meet Sam's eyes. He was upset and he hated that. Why couldn't he be like everyone else? Why couldn't he have some meaningless fun without worrying or hesitating to the consequences?

Because Sam was sweet, if not a little clueless, a little quirky, so why couldn't Kurt just fall into the experience? Why couldn't he let himself explore things with Sam – because … it was fun?

It was just fun.

Sam stepped back, holding his hands up in a gesture of surrender. Kurt was momentarily surprised at that … was the forward soldier _actually _backing away? "Look, Kurt, I - "

Kurt couldn't stop the scoff that arose in his throat. The words stumbled from his lips before he could drag them back. "So, at least you know my name," he said in a hard voice.

"_What_?"

When he caught the expression on Sam's face, he knew he's said the wrong thing. Sam stepped back even further, blanching at Kurt, his eyes hard, his posture rigid.

"Sam, I – "

"You think I didn't know your _name_? God, who do you think I _am_?"

"I don't _know_ who you are!" Kurt was thankful that no one was in the bathing tent at this time of day, because his voice had risen to unimaginable proportions. "I never got the chance to know! One minute you were harmlessly flirting with me, and the next we were practically fucking! There was no middle ground! If you knew me at all, you'd realize that I don't _do _that!"

"I was doing that because I like you Kurt!"

"_Or _you just wanted an easy slut to fulfil your disgusting needs!"

"They were _your _needs, you idiot!"

Kurt flushed, because Sam was exactly right. They were his needs. In retrospect, it had probably been better to just shut his mouth because now he was looking for ways to end the argument without admitting he was wrong, because, well … Kurt didn't like admitting he was wrong.

"Are you gay?" he asked quickly, spieling off the first question that came from his lips.

"_What_? Are you kidding me right now?" Despite his obvious annoyance, Kurt couldn't help but find Sam's outrage attractive. He knew he shouldn't, but the way Sam's chest was heaving was, well … delicious.

"_Are you gay_?" Kurt repeated. "Or do you like men _and _women? Or are you one of those - "

"_Stop_, Kurt! Why are you doing this?"

"Because you don't go around doing what you're doing without stating why you're doing it! We can dance around the subject for as much as you want, but if you want to know me and I want to know you then these are questions you should be answering! Questions that you shouldn't have a _problem _with answering!"

"I've been with men _and_ women," Sam said finally, his mouth stretching into a grim line.

"Okay then," Kurt nodded his head once – thankful that Sam could at least answer the question honestly. That was one step in the right direction. "I'm sorry that I - "

"No Kurt," Sam cut him off. "When you make assumptions about people, you have to deal with the consequences. I'm sorry you feel that way about me, but I can't do this if all you think I'm good for is trying to take advantage of you! I'm not that kind of person and it kills me that you think I am! It makes me sad that the world doesn't deem people like me - people like _us_ - acceptable, and I have to find my way around that! But I am _not_ going to run away scared from you. Yes, we got together quickly but I'm not forcing you - "

"Sam, you didn't give me much choice!"

"That is _bullshit_! I, look, I - " Sam ran a hand through his wet hair, stepping even further away from Kurt. "Okay, you know what? I'm gone. I can't do this."

Kurt stood, frozen, resting against the shower wall. His gaze was locked on Sam for one long moment, his mouth hanging open.

He couldn't say anything – he had nothing to say. This was what he'd wanted, wasn't it? Even as Sam walked away, he told himself very firmly that _he'd _started this argument; he'd forced Sam to talk and it had escalated into this. He couldn't stop Sam – whose blonde hair was dripping down his back, who Kurt simply _couldn't _look away from.

Yes, this had been what he wanted – speaking his mind, telling the truth. He'd wanted this to happen, right?

So why did seeing Sam walk away hurt so much?

* * *

><p>He couldn't talk to anyone; couldn't ask anyone for help because no one understood it. Of course they didn't.<p>

_Kurt _didn't even understand the emotions spinning through his head as he sat, perched on the fence in the middle of the night. The air was cool, biting at his skin but he couldn't feel it. He was numb. After his argument with Sam, his mind couldn't settle. He wanted _so _many things, but nothing at all.

He wanted everything he couldn't have - everything he'd _never _have.

He hated this. He hated _caring. _He hated that this was getting to him and he just wanted to _forget._

He wanted to forget about Sam and his lips, his damp hair and the way his hips strained against Kurt's. He wanted to forget about Sam's hands, they way his breath came fast as he watched Kurt fall into those waves of pleasure.

And most of all? He hated that he still wanted it.

But he wanted _more_. Feelings, heat, passion, _love._ He wanted it all.

He wanted everything that Sam just couldn't give him.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: So sorry about the lack of updates. I had major computer troubles and omfg BACK UP YOUR WORK, OKAY, JUST DO IT. That's all I'm saying. I hate technology, that is all. Anyway, enjoy! Thanks for sticking around!(:**

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><p>"I'm sorry."<p>

Of all the things Kurt had thought about saying, _that _was not one of them. He'd rehearsed hundreds of speeches in his mind – some of which ended with him passionately embracing Sam and some of which ended with him walking away – but, when it came down to it, all he could manage was a stumbled, stuttering apology.

Sam blinked twice, studying the flustered nurse. Kurt folded his arms across his chest, lifting his chin to meet Sam's gave, hoping to send off the impression that he was sure about what he was doing.

Of course, he wasn't sure. He never was around Sam.

"Pardon?"

Kurt raised an eyebrow at Sam's reaction, pressing his lips together and glancing furtively around the deserted courtyard to make sure no one was peeping through windows. It was late at night and the courtyard was well lit – making them easy targets for harassment.

"I said, _I'm sorry_," Kurt murmured, meeting Sam's eyes. "I acted stupid yesterday and I'm sorry. It's just - "

"You don't need to explain Kurt," Sam interrupted. "I understand."

Kurt nodded once, looking down at his gloved hands. The nursing wing had _finally _got new stock in today, so they were working overtime with the soldiers to ease the backlog of patients. Kurt had been up since 3am this morning, with no breaks and hundreds of injured soldiers, he hadn't managed to slip away until midnight.

Sam had been waiting for him.

"For the record, I'm sorry too. I … these things are never easy."

For a second, Kurt wondered what the soldier meant. He was pleased to see the cut on Sam's cheek is healing well and he couldn't help but wonder how his chest looked too – but that wasn't really for medical purposes …

"People aren't meant to have relationships in the army, I guess," Kurt sighed, nervously adjusting the collar of his shirt.

An awkward silence settled between them and Kurt didn't like the feeling of it at all. Shit, why did he have to say that? Meeting Sam had been one of his most thrilling experiences in the army – probably the only one he'd ever look back on with fondness … So how had it come to this? Halted conversation under the cover of darkness?

"Yesterday, I …. I wasn't trying to offend … or imply that you are in anyway promiscuous," he stuttered out quickly, because he had to. He had to say it. "I was upset, I - "

"_Kurt_," an easy grin was settling over Sam's full lips, it was something Kurt wanted to pause and replay forever. "Stop. Seriously, I was an idiot. You were … You _are … _brilliant. You're amazing."

Kurt blushed, looking down at his shaking fingers. _God_, why was he so nervous? He couldn't do anything right.

"So … friends?" He asked quickly.

In a heartbeat, he realized he'd said the wrong thing. Sam blanched and Kurt froze. _Jesus, shit, fuck, Christ. _

_Friends_?

Friends?

What was he thinking? Friends didn't want to rip each other's clothes off, or grind against each other, letting out desperate gasps and grunts. Kurt didn't want to be friends. He wanted to be loves, boyfriends, _husbands._

_Oh my god, stop_. He did that sometimes, let his mind go completely astray. He over-thought and then opened his mouth. _God,_ why did he have to open his mouth? Why couldn't he just let things happen?

And, well, the answer … he was Kurt Hummel. He was physically incapable of just 'letting things lie.' He had to ask, he had to wonder and question … he couldn't keep his mouth shut.

But now … God, he wished he hadn't said that.

For a moment, Sam stared – looking resigned, sober, but then that easy grin flashed back on his lips and he nodded once. "Yeah, friends."

Kurt could see the forced actions behind it, the way Sam took a step back ... the surrendering tone of his voice. It killed him. He wanted to take it back and say something else, he wanted to make it all better but ... what was there to say?

* * *

><p>He'd watched Sam walk away. He'd watched it and hated it and even though he <em>knew <em>it was inevitable, even though he knew that it was the best thing to do, it killed him.

Soldier Sam Evan's had made it clear what he wanted. And Kurt just wasn't it. Kurt wanted _love _and attention, and romance. Yeah, he wanted the physical things too – god, he wanted them – but he wanted _other stuff to come with it. _Starting things with Sam had been a mistake but ending them had been even stupider. He hadn't even _realized _he'd ended it - all potential, all opportunity ... it was gone in that one word.

_Friends_. Ha.

So when Sam walked away, Kurt vowed that it would be the last time he'd have to watch it happen. He had a job to do and a home to go to when this nightmare was over. He'd distract himself by working overtime, he'd do what he was born to do: save lives. And, _god_, he wouldn't talk to Sam Evan's again. Everything he said made things worse and it was clear that the men were on two different pages. They came from two different worlds and … it would never work.

But still.

_Still._

Kurt chewed his lip, heading to his own sleeping quarters. He was upset – far more than he'd care to admit – but he'd lived through the pain of being let down before and he could live through it again. He was strong, despite the thoughts of others. Being a homosexual working with the army was hard enough but adding _love _into it was … it was unthinkable.

But this wasn't love, Kurt laughed to himself. He was being ridiculous. _Love._ He hardly knew Sam!

So why did it hurt? Why did he want nothing more than to be laying across that chest, listening to the steady heartbeat of the soldier that was Sam Evans?

How could he possibly want something so badly? Something he'd never even had before? Something that was a mere possibility, a thought, a dream maybe, but never reality?

A could've been that never would be.

He'd shove it all away, the wanting, the needing … He'd ignore it. He'd smile at Sam in the hallways and nod politely in the lunch hall. He'd speak about the latest bomb in lot 76 and he'd exchange phone credit with Sam when he needed to speak to his loved ones. They wouldn't even be friends. They'd be acquaintances.

This was the only way it could be now.

Kurt knew one thing for sure, as he lay on the hard bunk in his tent.

He knew one thing that would keep going, one thing that Kurt Hummel did best: he knew that life would go on. His contract with the army would end and he would go home. He'd live with his father until he met a nice blonde man that reminded him of the soldier he once knew. His father would give his blessing and Kurt would peruse a new love.

By the end of this, Sam Evan's would be nothing but a mere memory.

* * *

><p><strong>Sorry for the badly written chapter, it's mainly a filler just to say '<em>I'm still here<em>!'. It's three am and I need sleep, but now that I've started writing again, you can expect a new update within the next week! And don't worry, it's not the end for Sam and Kurt just yet!(; **


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Just one more part to go after this, I think. There may be a bit of a delay but it should be up within the next two weeks, enjoy!(:**

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><p>"Ah, Mr Evans, you're here for your check up?" Kurt glanced around the crowded nursing tent and gathered his papers together, willing himself not to meet Sam's eye. He'd managed to avoid the soldier for a week – hurrying off to help wounded men, or to compare notes with the other nurses and so this was the first time they had laid eyes on each other in seven days.<p>

And, _oh_, Kurt hadn't forgotten. He hadn't forgotten any of it … how could he?

"Uh, yeah," Sam said awkwardly, sitting down on the stained, make-shift bed. "I think one of the cuts on my chest is infected, there's um … pus."

Kurt nodded once and first began undressing the gash on Sam's cheek with shaking fingers – he'd deal with the simpler cuts first. Sam's eyes darkened as he watched Kurt and Kurt couldn't ignore the way Sam was chewing his lip.

_God_, this was hard. And, of course, he couldn't say anything – not when they were in a room full of other soldiers and nurses. He couldn't do anything but his job.

Lucky for him, Kurt was very good at what he did and could block out his residing feelings for long enough to finish his job with Sam.

"I'm glad we're … friends Kurt," the soldier said softly, shuddering slightly under Kurt's fingers.

"Don't." Kurt shook his head once, before running his fingers over the puckered skin under Sam's left eye. Despite the violent red of the gash, the skin was quite smooth and it only made Kurt imagine the smooth skin on the rest of Sam's body.

_Stop it._

He pressed some antiseptic against the wound, looking away as Sam shuddered underneath him. The soldier's eyes were positively dark now and he watched Kurt with such intensity that Kurt was sure that everyone in the room would know what was going on.

"Kurt, I was wondering if we could um talk later," Sam said in one rushed breath. "I mean, I'm not trying anything but I - "

"Stop it Sam," Kurt took a deep breath, and pressed firmly against the bandage on Sam's cheek as he redressed the room. "There's nothing left to talk about it."

Again, Kurt shot his gaze furtively across the room. No one took notice of the two men in the corner and anyone who did notice didn't have the energy to say anything.

"But there is," Sam insisted, wincing as he tried to sit up. "Ouch, shit."

"Hey, hey," Kurt murmured, gently pushing Sam back down onto the bed. "Stay still." Sam sighed and let Kurt continue dressing his would. "Look Sam," he said gently, glancing around the room again. "I … I said some stupid things last night."

"I don't think they were stupid," the soldier said quietly, watching as Kurt's fingered trailed along the tape on his cheek. Kurt couldn't get over just how intensely Sam was watching him, he loathed and loved how he was shuddering under just the brush of his fingertips – he loved how matter-of-factly Sam was speaking, how simple everything seemed to the soldier. If only everything _were _that simple. "I don't think anything you say is stupid."

"Then … then what about you? What do _you _think of um … us?" Kurt blushed hard as he spoke, sending his full concentration into the bandages on Sam's cheek.

He was going to have to make Sam take off his shirt soon and he was buying his time for as long as he could, because … with Sam topless, he couldn't seem to think straight; ever.

_Us. _It was just another thing he shouldn't have said, another moment when he should've shut his mouth rather than letting the words spill out; why couldn't he get anything right? Why did he have to …

_Wait._

Was Sam … was he _smiling_?

Kurt pressed his lips together as he watched the smile grow on Sam's face. It was subtle at first, a small twitch of the lips but then it grew and Kurt felt his world grow with it. But ... everything else in the room was falling away, it was just him and Sam. For the most part, he just couldn't understand why the whole room wasn't seeing that smile until he realized that the smile was just for him. A secret smile; a smile in reaction to the word _us. _

_Us. _

Could there ever be an … _us_?

"What I think is … that we started off on the wrong foot, Nurse Hummel," Sam was saying slowly that cheeky grin threatened to reappear on his face, but Sam was utterly serious. Kurt fought to listen, because he was still getting distracted by that _god damn _smile and his fingers were brushing along Sam's shoulders because at some point or another, he was going to have to inspect the gash on the soldiers chest.

"Could you um, take your shirt off, Soldier Evan's?" Kurt asked, giving the room another furtive sweep over. "And, what do you mean 'the wrong foot'?"

Sam held Kurt's gaze right up until the moment he pulled his shirt over his eyes. Kurt let out a shuddery breath, glancing everywhere but the thin trail of blonde hair disappearing down below Sam's tanned stomach and into his shorts.

Oh god, this was going to be hard.

"I think that you're awesome," Sam said slowly, keeping his eyes locked on Kurt's face. Kurt was looking at Sam's chest, hoping that the soldier couldn't see his fingers shaking. "I think that, um, _we _could be awesome … you know, together."

Kurt pressed his lips together, thinking. As he thought, he began cleaning the wound on Sam's chest. Sam was right, it was infected, but not badly. Just some antiseptic and rest should fix it. But still, the entire situation was made hard due to the fact that Kurt was desperately fighting the temptation to trail his fingers along Sam's flat stomach. He couldn't let himself think about what he _wanted _because what he _wanted _was Sam bucking up against his touch, Sam shuddering in pleasure. Kurt wanted his lips on Sam's chest, trailing soft kisses down below. He wanted …

"So, it wasn't just sex?" The flustered nurse asked quickly and quietly, but no one was watching them, no one cared. Everyone was caught up in doing their jobs, or simply not dying, but Kurt … It seemed like Kurt's entire happiness was banking on this one question, which was stupid because, honestly, this was just one man. One incredibly charming, bright, funny and heartbreakingly attractive man …

"Of course not!" This time, Sam blushed and god damn, he still looked as attractive as ever. "Besides, there wasn't much you know, um, sex, so … " Kurt looked down and dabbed some antiseptic over Sam's cut. "Look Kurt, I _like you_. And I want to get to know you. When this is all over, I want to go home and visit you. I want to take you on dates and take you home. But mostly, I just don't want to die in this war without … knowing you. That's all."

* * *

><p>Kurt hadn't cried, thank god, but he'd gotten close.<p>

He sat in the courtyard where he'd first had _that_ conversation with Sam – the flirting, the blushing. It seemed surreal now, almost … trivial. Sam had presented the facts earlier and the facts were, they couldn't have a relationship … not while they were in the army.

That wasn't to say they didn't _want _to be … something, but not here. Not in this time. Sam had become a distraction of sorts – of course, he was a lot more than that – but, instead of spending his days thinking about the awful things in his life, Kurt instead, thought of Sam Evans.

It was good, he decided, to have a light at the end of the tunnel, perse. It seemed that –

"I knew you'd be out here." Kurt didn't have to look up to know who was speaking, but he smiled as he met Sam's eyes. Sam sat down next to him, sighing loudly. "I couldn't sleep."

"I never do," Kurt said simply.

"I um, I couldn't sleep because I was thinking about you."

"Oh?" Kurt cocked his head, ignoring the way his heart sped up. They'd had many moments since they first met, but this was something different all together. This was … hesitant.

"I was laying there," Sam said slowly, not looking at Kurt, "and I realized … I'm getting better. I could be sent back out onto the field any day now." Kurt swallowed hard because, up until now, he hadn't allowed that thought to pass his mind. He didn't say anything, because, for once, he realized that maybe it would be smarter to keep his mouth shut. "Kurt, I … I like you. You know I like you and you know that I'm not like all the other guys out there," Sam wrung his hands together. He was the happy middle between nervous and awkward and Kurt had never seen anything cuter. "I realized that, if I'm sent away tomorrow, or the day after that, or the day after that, then I might never see you again."

Kurt chewed his lip, not even bothering to check if anyone was watching them in the courtyard now. Right now, there was only Sam.

"You've been a friend to me, Kurt. You've been a lot more than that, but firstly, you've been a friend. I … I want to thank you. For saving me, for being there, for … accepting me; you were the first person I saw after that bomb exploded and … who would've thought that you would be the person that made my life here worth living … worth fighting for?"

Sam cracked a smile and Kurt looked up. He was used to the intensity of the blonde soldiers gaze now, he was used to the rapid changes of mood, the secret smiles just for him … He was used to it and he loved every minute of it.

"I know that we might never get to see each other again, or if I'm killed - " Kurt made a choked noise but Sam kept talking. "And _if _that happens, I want you to know Kurt that … I won't forget. I never will. And when you're becoming the world's greatest doctor or whatever, I just want you to remember what it felt like to kiss me. I want you to remember me. Because … Because, I'll remember you, okay?" Sam's voice was shaking and Kurt was desperately clutching at this moment, because he wouldn't remember anything else but this. Not the arguments or the shaky beginning.

He'd remember clutching hands with his friend, finding something beautiful is a dark place. He'd remember the way Sam looked at him – like he was the only person in the world. He would never forget. He couldn't.

"Sam, I - "

Sam shook his head and ran a thumb over the skin of Kurt's cheek. Kurt shivered, watching Sam watching him. For a moment, they sat there in utter stillness, frozen, trying to lock this moment into their minds. But then time starting moving again – moving rapidly, too fast – because Sam was leaning in and brushing his lips against Kurt, and Kurt couldn't quite catch his breath because this kiss was _different. _

Kurt was falling into a kiss that was … God, it was just _something else._ It was different than all the other kisses, quite different to anything he'd ever felt before.

Sam was cupping Kurt's face and grazing his teeth over his bottom lip. There was no desperation, no hunger, there was just tenderness and unyielding passion. Kurt's hand was on Sam's cheek and Sam's fingers were trailing behind Kurt's head, pulling him closer, impossibly close. There was a subtle quietness to this kiss, but that isn't to say it didn't knock Kurt completely off his feet.

Well, had he been standing it would have knocked him off his feet.

Sam's tongue was dancing around the entrance of Kurt's mouth, not teasing or asking a question, but sealing a promise. Kurt could only lose himself in the moment, the way Sam's hand moved to rub circles in the back of his neck, the way they were connected with something deeper than he'd ever felt before ... He could only concentrate on keeping himself alive and forcing himself to keep breathing.

He loved this moment, he loved when Sam pulled away to catch his breath before leaning in an capturing Kurt's bottom lip with his teeth. He loved the way the soldier didn't force himself onto him, he loved it when Sam's eyes fluttered open, just for a second, his eyelashes tickling Kurt's cheeks, as if he was making sure Kurt was still there. Kurt loved it all, he loved –

"Cease and desist! Soldier Evans and Nurse Hummel, this is inappropriate action! You are to report to Governor Heins at once!"

The courtyard filled with light revealing three commanding officers with torches and clipboards. Kurt and Sam sprang apart, a soldier and a nurse, caught in the headlights, no longer touching … except for their hands. Their hands remained clasped tightly, a silent promise that no matter whatever happened next, they wouldn't let go of one another.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Now is probably not the time to admit that I have little to no knowledge of the army, or what time this is set in so this is probably poorly researched but I did the best I could; I am just hoping you guys enjoy this last chapter though. I wanted to go out with a bang, so to speak. ;)**

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><p>"Were you aware that homosexuality is a sin, Nurse Hummel?" Commander Lakes was visibly shaking as he shoved Kurt down in the chair opposite his desk.<p>

Kurt shrugged off his meaty hands. "Well that depends on if you believe that there is a God or not, but I don't suppose we'll be getting into the logistics of _that _particular range of opinions.

The man's face reddened and he slammed his fist down onto the table. Kurt didn't jump, he didn't move. His heart was with Sam in the tent across the grounds and he couldn't seem to speak properly until he knew what was going to happen to Sam. Of course, he couldn't ask because that would just fuel the angry Commanding officer even further. So instead, he settled for saying nothing more.

"This is _not_ a sex camp, this is not a dating ground or a hobby. This is _war_, Hummel!" Kurt grimaced as spit landed on his face, but he didn't dare move. He felt like he was back in school, back to being the scared boy, the boy who couldn't stand up for himself. "Unfortunately, you are one of the best nurses around this place and we can't afford to kill you."

Kurt blanched. He was no longer watching the man's chin wobble, or concentrating on gripping the edges of his wicker chair. No, he was terrified now.

"Your contract here lasts for another year then – _and only then_! – you will be sent home, is that clear?"

Kurt nodded once although he didn't quite understand what the man was saying. What did this mean for him? _For Sam_?

"You are on limited access in all areas and you will be forbidden to speak to the soldiers - "

"How the fuck am I meant to _save their lives_ if I can't talk to them?"

"You will be on basic rations for the next month and I am giving you a bunk mate. No, ignore that, I am giving you _guards_, they will watch your tent while you sleep, documenting all of your activity - "

"_What_? But I am the best - "

"You will _not _speak unless spoken to. _Do you hear me_, Hummel?" Lakes was visibly shaking and his brow was dotted with sweat. Kurt pursed his lips and didn't say anything. He could hear the blood pounding in his ears and, despite his attempt at control, he was shaking too. "_I said_, do you understand me, Mr. Hummel?"

"Yes," Kurt bit out.

"Yes _what_?"

"YES SIR."

The Commanding officer didn't look at all alarmed at Kurt's raised voice – in fact, he didn't at all look intimidated by Kurt which made him even madder. "You know, I expected better of you Hummel," Lakes sighed. "I always knew you were … a different kind of man, but you are one of the best nurses we have. You've saved hundreds of lives and I've no doubt you will save hundreds more. I just wish you hadn't crossed that line."

Kurt was still shaking, his palms were sweaty and he could taste blood in his mouth from the men and their rough handling earlier. He had nothing left to say to Lakes. He wanted to talk to no one but Sam.

"I expect you in the nursing wing at tomorrow. For now, you've been demoted to assistant. I wish I didn't have to do that, but unfortunately Hummel, it's my job."

Kurt didn't even have the energy to fight. He didn't have the energy to argue or point out that having him demoted to assistant will only put more lives in jeopardy. He didn't bother pointing out that this was completely unfair or that love was love no matter what form it came in.

… _Love._

Commander Lakes stood, popping his collar and hanging a cigarette between his lips to light. "You may go to your bunk now."

Kurt stood too, meeting Lakes eyes. "What happens to Sam?" he asked in a hard voice. For a moment, the Commanding Officer looked taken aback that Kurt had had the guts to ask the question but Kurt shrugged it off. He was Kurt Hummel and he would ask whatever the fuck he wanted. But still, Lakes said nothing. "_What happens to him_?"

"Sam will go back to fighting," Lakes said slowly.

"_But he hasn't even healed yet_!" Oh, Kurt wished his voice hadn't risen to a squeak, he wished he could sound calmer but he couldn't think about Sam going back onto the field. He'd have to say goodbye, he'd have to … "Will I get to see him again? Before he goes?

Lakes grimaced and Kurt knew the answer before it fell from the man's grimy lips. "I'm afraid not, Hummel. It's policy rules."

"_Fuck _the rules!"

"Hummel, you can leave this tent now with what littlefreedom you have left or you can keep talking to me like that and find yourself chained to your bed. Which would you prefer?"

Kurt span on his heel and left the tent.

* * *

><p>Saving lives isn't so satisfying when you hate your own.<p>

For Kurt, it wasn't about what was _missing_ – although, that in itself seemed to be eating through his happiness – no, it was about what _could've been_. It was not the absence that killed him, but the potential. If only they'd done _one _thing differently, just one thing, then it all could've changed. He could be working alongside Sam right now, he could be working _with _him, standing together, sharing their secret – but this this was the army and they were never going to accept Kurt, or Sam, for what they were.

Instead, Kurt muttered about the right cotton to use for stitches to confused nurses. He dressed wounds and cleaned bedpans. He was being treated like a scummy assistant while still doing the hard work of the best nurse in this wing. It seemed people were treating him with a mixture of caution and coldness. He was used to the cruel remarks made by other soldiers, but now he had commanding officers and even some nurses muttering things at him. He didn't care though, he'd lost the will to care about anything now.

Every time he caught even a glimpse of a blonde soldier with a bloody face, his hopes swelled inside of him, it felt like he was a balloon, inflating from the inside. But it was never him, never Sam. The days dragged on, hours of dressing wounds and hoping for a glimpse, just a god damn _glimpse _of Sam. They seemed to mesh into each other, the days of work and aching bones and sore muscles.

Saving lives wasn't enough now, because he'd tasted Sam on his lips, he'd had that … fulfilment. That thing he'd been missing for so long, but then it was just wrenched away from him. It was like he didn't know he'd wanted it until it'd been taken away from him and now that it – now that _Sam_ –was gone he wanted him desperately.

The nights were the hardest, though. They seemed to go on forever and Kurt hardly slept as it was, but having men standing outside his tent, stopping him from even going out to get air, pretty much cut off all chances he had of falling asleep. The anxiety was the worse – it happened most nights since he came to the army base – and he needed to see the stars to calm himself down. When he couldn't see the stars, he felt as if he couldn't breathe.

* * *

><p>It had been a particularly hard day, today.<p>

Not only had Kurt seen a man die in the early hours of the morning but there'd been an influx of soldiers coming straight from battle and there seemed to be an outbreak of some flu – not deadly enough to kill, but serious enough to set the hospital wing back a weeks' worth of work. He'd had arguments with the soldiers that guarded him whilst in the shower, he said that he wanted more freedom and they laughed in his face. They just made the usual argument that he was responsible for his own actions and it was his fault that he was in this situation in the first place.

He didn't even have the strength to argue with them, even as they made crude remarks about his slight body in the shower tent, or as they shadowed him back to the hospital wing, encouraging other soldiers to make even the smallest journeys across the courtyard hell. He'd fought with four different nurses about the best ways to administer pain relief – of which the supplies were dwindling disgustingly quickly - and he'd had to deal with an unsatisfied Commanding Officer about the state of the hospital wing and the fact that it could be considered unsanitary and untidy, to which Kurt promptly replied that he was _not_ a cleaner, nor would he even _begin _to start wiping blood off the tent floor.

So, yeah, when Kurt dragged himself to his sleep tent, shooting a cold glance at the soldiers standing in front of it, the last thing he expected to see was Sam Evans hovering behind his bed.

He opened his mouth, unsure of what to say, of where to even _begin_ – he just knew that he had to begin _somewhere_ because there was so much that he wanted to say, so much he wanted to tell Sam, and why had the guards even let him in? – when Sam lunged forward, shoving a hand over Kurt's mouth and dragging him over to the far corner of the tent.

Kurt couldn't move – and well, he didn't particularly want to – because Sam gripped him from behind, his hands encircling his waist, pulling him close. Heavy breath heated Kurt's ear and fluttered over his cheeks and Kurt could feel the violent rise and fall of Sam's chest against his back. Oh god, this was heaven.

This wasn't real, this wasn't –

"Baby, I know there's a lot you want to say right now but you need to be quiet," the words wore hot and vibrating against his air, no louder than a breath of wind in the night. When Kurt looked up, Sam's eyes were trained on the tent flap, but his hands tightened around Kurt's waist. "There's a lot I want to say too, but we can't risk being caught."

Kurt spun around and Sam's grip remained tight on his waist, his fingers were digging into Kurt's hips, bruising him, making him _remember_. Kurt wanted to ask _how, _he wanted to ask _why_ but he saw the tension in Sam's eyes, the desperation … It said everything.

"I'm being sent back out to fight tomorrow."

Again, the words were a hiss, barely even a whisper. They were a breath, now moving, dancing across Kurt's face, across his lips as Sam moved his face in closer, pulling him in tight.

The grief that flashed through Kurt was hot. It seared through his blood, singeing his nerves, burning up every ounce of hope he'd had about them getting through this. They couldn't. It was doomed, it was –

Once again, Sam Evan's was tearing through his thoughts and this time with no explanation. This time his lips were closing around Kurt's and his tongue was slipping into Kurt's mouth. Kurt's mouth was falling open and Sam was tasting him, smiling against his lips. This time Kurt's arms were around Sam's neck and Sam's fingers were sliding under the cotton of Kurt's t-shirt, gripping desperately at the porcelain skin underneath. This time there was no second guessing in the back of Kurt's mind because this time he knew what Sam wanted.

He also knew that this was a fleeting moment in time, one that would most definitely pass and one that was not going to have a happy ending.

And so, Kurt had to make the most of it.

* * *

><p>His fingers were linked around the back of Sam's neck and he fought to catch his breath, desperately trying not to gasp when Sam began nibbling his bottom lip and pulling him even closer. A sharp intake of breath was all it would take, for the soldiers outside to come running in. An uncontrolled moan or whimper would give them away in an instant.<p>

How was it that they were so exposed and yet so alone?

They didn't dare fall onto the bed – although Kurt could see Sam desperately fighting the urge not to throw him onto it. And so, they sank onto the solid rock floor behind Kurt's bed, letting out quick panting breaths and desperately trying not to make any noise.

Sam's knuckles were kneading patterns into Kurt's back and Kurt was arching at every touch, breaking away only when the kissing became too much. His eyes were locked on Sam's and he felt as if he was silently screaming everything he couldn't say … and he knew Sam was saying things back.

_I'm sorry it had to be this way._

Sam knew that Kurt hadn't wanted things to begin like this – hadn't that been what their conflict was about in the first place? He hadn't wanted to be a quick fuck in the bathroom tent, or hiding away from the disgusting, small minded soldiers, but … this wasn't like that now.

Because this was _feelings_, this was passion and lust and – fuck it – this was _love _coursing through his veins. He couldn't speak for Sam, but this was exactly what he wanted right now because it felt like this was all he'd ever have.

And this was better than nothing.

He was chewing his lip so hard that he was sure he felt blood trickling into his mouth. Sam was trailing frenzied kisses down his neck, pausing to suck the skin on the nape of his neck or graze his teeth over Kurt's most sensitive spots.

Some of their kisses were angry – and Kurt knew exactly what Sam was trying to say with them. He was angry at this situation, angry at how it had to be. And some were so soft – just a brush of the lips, so gentle that all Kurt could do to stop himself from gasping was to bury his head in the crook of Sam's shoulder.

Every now and then, Sam pulled away, chest heaving, hands shaking as he tried to regain composure and not make a noise. For Kurt, it was strange to see Sam so controlled. Every move the soldier made was precise and every time one of the men let out even the tiniest hiss of breath, Sam would freeze, craning his head to see the outline of the soldiers outside leaning against the canvas tent. When they didn't move, he'd flash Kurt a relieved smile before diving in for another kiss.

There were rocks digging into Kurt's thighs and the floor was cold and dusty, but he couldn't care less because his legs were tangled up in Sam's and Kurt was stroking Sam's cheek and dragging his tongue over Sam's chapped lips. Sam was pulling Kurt closer, desperate to hold him tighter, have him nearer. His hands were clawing Kurt's back as Kurt smiled into Sam's mouth.

The truth was, he'd never felt better than he did right here. When Sam gripped him tight and grinded against him, Kurt let out a sigh.

Both he and Sam froze, their eyes flickering towards the soldiers outside. He could feel Sam's erection throbbing against his upper thigh, radiating heat all the way through his thin hospital pants.

Sam grinned because once again, they'd cheated fate and escaped being caught and he kissed Kurt again, making patterns in Kurt's mouth with his tongue.

The kiss was reaching that stage, the stage where no one turns back. Kurt was fisting Sam's hair, dragging himself against Sam until he was practically on top of the aroused soldier. Sam was slipping his hands under Kurt's shirt, grinding against him, pushing Kurt back into the ground. Kurt was aching, and bucking up against Sam. His mouth falling open in a silent breath and his hands sliding from the back of Sam's head to dig into his hips, pulling him closer; Sam's tongue was stroking Kurt's and Kurt's body was responding with every connection. Sam's breath was hot and tasted slightly of burnt coffee as his hands roamed Kurt's aching body, lingering in the places that had Kurt thrusting underneath him.

Not wanting to leave room for any lingering noise or hesitation, Kurt dragged Sam's shirt over his shoulders and trailed his fingers over Sam's muscled back. Sam shuddered against Kurt and that only encouraged Kurt as his lips danced down the skin of Sam's throat, brushing against the skin and pausing only as Sam shuddered against him.

But this friction wasn't enough. Kurt wanted more and so did Sam, they were grinding together but it just _wasn't enough_. Every time Sam thrust down, placing chaste kisses on Kurt's neck, and lips, Kurt thrust up burying his head into Sam's shoulder, desperately forcing himself to keep quiet. He was sure that he wasn't getting nearly enough oxygen but there was no other way around it. If he opened his mouth now, he was sure a low whine would just fall from his lips and then they would be caught.

Sam bent down, slipping his tongue into Kurt's mouth and thrusting hard against him and Kurt thrust upwards, rubbing Sam's thigh with his own. He traced circles over Sam's chest with his tongue, making the circles tighter and tighter until his tongue flicked over Sam's nipple, causing the soldier to fall completely apart on top of him. Sam's breath hitched at his let his head fall onto Kurt's shoulder, grinding against Kurt hard enough to cause the nurse's teeth to graze against his nipple again. Kurt was sure he'd make a noise soon, he couldn't handle this, how good it felt, how quiet they had to be – there was pressure building inside of him and it was getting too strong.

Sam's hands palmed Kurt through his cotton pants and Kurt could feel Sam's erection grinding against him. He felt like his was going to explode if he didn't come soon – but he wasn't sure how he'd come without yelling out. Sam seemed to be thinking along the same lines because in seconds, he stopped palming Kurt and his wet lips found Kurt's ear.

"Baby, we can't come together because I can't promise that I can keep quiet," his voice was ragged, exhausted with the effort of keeping every movement, every ounce of pleasure coiled up inside him. Kurt knew it was only a matter of time before that string unravelled and oh god, he hoped that moment was coming – no pun intended, he thought giddily – sooner rather than later.

And so, Kurt ended up gnawing the skin on Sam's shoulder, because Sam hand was finding its way under the layers of fabric and wrapping around Kurt's cock. Sam's skin was sheen with sweat and Kurt could taste the salt on his lips as he lapped his tongue over that sensitive spot under Sam's collarbone.

He nearly yelled out when Sam's face disappeared and he pulled off Kurt's shirt in one swift motion. _Nearly. _

And now Sam's full lips and _oh god_, he talented mouth were sucking and biting their way down Kurt's toned chest. He was so pale that his skin seemed to radiate in the darkness and in most circumstances, he'd probably be embarrassed, but right now, all he could think of was the swell of affection and lust he was feeling for the man on top of him.

When Sam's mouth lingered on Kurt's nipples, Kurt found himself mashing his lips together, squeezing his eyes shut and bucking against Sam, and desperately hoping that not a sound would escape his lips. God, his body was on _fire._ Every stroke of Sam's tongue or a graze of his teeth felt as if it was taking him closer and closer to spontaneous combustion.

He couldn't breathe, he couldn't move, he was nothing but a body – full of ecstasy, unable to release it or make any of the sounds that were bubbling up in his throat. Sam's nails tickled Kurt stomach, before slipping under the waistband of his pants and dragging them down. Kurt chocked down a groan as the cool air hit him and Sam wasn't making it any easier to keep quiet with the way he was stroking and rubbing every part of Kurt, trailing his tongue down below Kurt's belly button before finally tracing the length of his cock.

He was almost there already, desperate to come and thrusting hard against Sam. While Sam had one hand tracing circles on the inside of Kurt's thigh, the other one was sprawled over Kurt's chest. Kurt gripped it hard as Sam's full lips enclosed over Kurt's length, sending shocks up through Kurt's pelvis like electrical currents. Sam's tongue was darting over the tip, catching any precum that was leaking out before dragging his mouth up the underside of his cock. Oh god, _right there, yes, fuck._

Kurt was clawing Sam's hand and chewing his lip so hard it hurt – he couldn't make a sound, he couldn't even breathe. He wasn't going to last long because Sam was _good_ and he knew all the right places to linger. He was just … _Ah, shit_.

He moved his hand from Kurt's thigh to grip the bottom of his cock, squeezing hard and causing Kurt to slide fully into Sam's mouth. He was aching as the hot wetness closed in around him and Sam's tongue was making magic.

Jesus fucking Christ, oh shit. He was going to come, he was going to …

Kurt was sure he was breaking the skin on Sam's hand as his nails gripped him tighter. His eyes flickered down, only to meet Sam's wide eyes and that was it, he was done for. Sam's head moved as he took in the full length of Kurt's cock, his tongue sliding along the ultra-sensitive underside of him, squeezing hard and moving his lips as Kurt bucked underneath him. He was so _close_, he could feel himself teetering over the edge, desperate and ready, so painfully _close … _

Kurt let out a series of quick breaths – relishing the feeling of air in his lungs. He wanted to check the soldiers on the other side of the tent, he wanted to scream Sam's name, and he wanted to fuck Sam until Sam was a whimpering mess underneath him, instead, he slammed his jaw shut and gripped tight on Sam's hand. He was going to come, ah … That was it. Right there, oh god, never stop, never … He was coming, he was right there, he was …

With Sam's eyes still locked on his, he flicked his tongue down lower and Kurt thrust hard against Sam's lips as the fire turned to inferno in the base of his stomach and he spilled into Sam's mouth, shuddering hard as he came. And still, Sam kept his eyes one Kurt as Kurt rode out the orgasm. His hips twitching, his hand clinging onto Sam's as the waves of ecstasy crashed over him. Sam was not making a sound, not even a breath as he was flicking his tongue to clean up any mess. In a few last shudders and bucking into Sam's mouth, it was over.

Even in the clouds of darkness hovering in his vision, Kurt could see Sam's smile as he crawled back up to kiss Kurt. Despite the fact that he was absolutely spent, there was nothing more thrilling to Kurt than tasting himself on Sam's tongue. It was incredible.

Kurt lazily cupped Sam's ass, silently laughing as Sam's eyes fluttered closed. He was very aware that Sam was still hard, even as Sam gave him one chaste kiss and shrugged his shoulders as if it didn't matter. Of course it mattered.

And besides, Kurt wanted to see him come.

And so, without hesitation, Kurt slipped his hand under the waistband of Sam's pants, sliding his fingers around the curve of his ass before bringing them around the front and gripping Sam hard. Sam's eyes shot open, staring at Kurt with a mixture of shock and complete lust. The position was awkward, with Sam still on top of Kurt, but if Kurt could move his legs just right …

_Yes_. Sam's head fell onto Kurt's shoulder as he let out shallow, tiny breaths that blended with the sounds of the night. Kurt pumped Sam's cock slowly and his hips rolled into him, twitching already as Sam fought to control himself. Kurt was smiling and now understood why Sam had watched his face as he came. He wanted to see Sam's expression; he wanted to see him fall apart on top of him. He traced the length of Sam's hard cock as Sam rubbed against him, desperately trying to create some friction.

Kurt was all too happy to oblige. He squeezed hard and begin dragging his hand up and down, thrusting his hips up, to add that extra pressure Sam so obviously craved. Sam was shaking now, his teeth grazing the skin on Kurt's throat, desperately trying not to moan, trying not to even breathe too loudly.

Kurt could see though, in the way Sam's eyes were beginning to squeeze shut that the soldier was getting close.

"Sweetie, be quiet," he wasn't even sure if Sam had heard him, he was so quiet. Just a breath; but it must have had some effect on the soldier because Sam's eyes snapped open and met Kurt's. Kurt released his grip on Sam's cock, before squeezing again and then rapidly releasing. Sam was chewing his lip, his nails clawing Kurt's back as he trapped Kurt between his body and the ground.

Kurt trailed his fingers along Sam's length and with a violent shudder and one hard thrust, against Kurt's hand, and then his hips, and Sam came hard, snapping his jaw shut, and letting his head fall properly against Kurt's shoulder as his hips continued thrusting against Kurt's sticky palm, leaving him bone-dry.

Kurt smiled down at Sam, whose forehead was now beaded with sweat and was – quite comfortably, apparently – lying on Kurt. Kurt withdrew his hand from Sam's pants and reached up to suck one of his fingers clean.

At this movement, Sam's head snapped up and he smiled. It wasn't that cheeky smile Kurt was just beginning to grow used to. No, it was a different smile, it was …

_I love you_, Sam mouthed, reaching down to cup Kurt's face, brushing his full lips just gently against Kurt's.

_I love you too_, Kurt thought.

* * *

><p>When Kurt Hummel woke up the next morning, reaching out for the warm arms of his lover, he realized that he was lying on the rocky floor of his bed tent and Sam Evans was no longer wrapped around him. Kurt's shirt was lying somewhere on the other side of the bed, his hair was covered with dirt and he sat up.<p>

The sun wasn't up yet, but Kurt could hear the soldiers doing drills outside – presumably getting ready to go and fight. His heart sank.

Sam was nowhere to be seen now, the only evidence of ever _being _there was now caked and sticky on Kurt's right hand.

He was well and truly alone.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Kurt,<strong>_

_**I had to leave after you fell asleep because, as tempting as it was, I couldn't risk falling asleep next to you. To ease your curiosity – because I just know that it's driving you crazy right now – I managed to sneak into your tent in the middle of the day. No one missed me, or noticed I was gone and I waited until both of the soldiers outside of your tent were taking their bathroom break before sneaking out. It wasn't easy, but I'm a soldier; I know how these things work, remember?**_

_**Last night was incredible, Kurt. It was the best night of my life and I promise you I will never forget. Whatever happens next, if I die in war, or if you become the world's greatest doctor, I want you to know that I will **_**always **_**remember, I will always think of the man I fell in love with in the army.**_

_**As ironic as it is, you are my strength and I don't want to drag you down. Whatever happens to me, to you, I just want you to remember **_**us**_**, as we were – a fleeting moment filled with passion. Don't be sad, if you never see me again. Don't be sad because I'll still be alive, in your memory as you will continue to live on through mine, burning and shining like the star you are.**_

_**When I am on the field, Kurt, facing men who are my enemies though I've never met them, I will not think back on us with regret. I will think of you, of us, as a miracle. We found love in the dark and you will continue to shine through my life, because you are Doctor – not nurse – Kurt Hummel and I will never, **_**ever, **_**forget you.**_

_**Your Love,**_

_**Soldier Sam Evans. **_

* * *

><p>One year later, Kurt Hummel exited the Royal hospital in the state of Tennessee.<p>

"Look, Kurt, this is how I see it: I'm hot, and you are the smartest man in the state. We're _destined _to be together, its fate."

Kurt was blushing into the phone. On the other end of that phone, there was a blonde nurse that went by the name of Jackson Baxter who was teaching at the local school in his free time.

"Look, Jackson," Kurt laughed. "You make a fair point, I'm sure, but … I would be dragging you into disaster. I'm just not ready for a relationship." The truth was, Kurt was beginning to wonder if he would ever be ready. Since his time in the army, and getting the job here, his heart always stayed with that soldier. That one soldier who was the reason Kurt that was now following his dreams.

On the other end of the phone, Jackson sighed. "Whatever you say. But you've got my number if you ever change your mind."

Kurt smiled. "Yeah, I do. Bye Jackson."

"Bye Kurt."

* * *

><p>Six months after that, Kurt set down a beer in the local bar. Jackson Baxter was laughing next to him, his blonde hair falling over his face.<p>

He looked like Sam, but then again, Kurt had already known that. If he was truly honest with himself, that's why he'd finally agreed to come out on this date. Dating life seemed bland after he'd experienced Sam Evans; even if it had only been for a moment in time, just a small moment, but the pressure of society, of his father and of his friends to begin dating was too much and he'd caved.

And yet, and yet. Kurt was defining himself on this one moment, on possibility, one recklessly abandoned path that life had let grow over with scummy weeds.

Maybe it was time to move on, maybe it was time to forget.

"I can't forget," he mumbled drunkenly against Jackson's shoulder. "I'll never forget him."

Jackson listen to Kurt as he rambled all night. Both men drunk far too much and by the end of the night, they were stumbling out of the bar. Jackson knew about Kurt's history in the army, but he didn't know about Sam. No one knew about Sam, not even his dad.

But now, he was letting it all fall out. Jackson listened as Kurt rambled in the back of the cab and even as he began to cry. He didn't want to forget, he wanted to remember and he wanted to go back.

"I'm sorry Sam," he mumbled into Jackson's shoulder. "I'm sorry I never found you."

Jackson didn't speak, didn't say a word as he supported Kurt on the walk to his one-bedroom apartment and Kurt had nothing left to say. He'd said it all. When Jackson pulled the blankets over Kurt's drunken body, he placed a chaste kiss on the doctor's forehead before leaving Kurt alone to cry.

* * *

><p>Ten months after that incident, a roaring fight with Jackson Baxter which resulted in the ending of <em>that <em>particular friendship and many sleepless nights later, Kurt Hummel accepted the Grand Medic award on national television. He'd found a cure for a rare disease that developed in infected or untreated bullet wounds. It saved the life of an important police officer and Kurt gained the respect and love from the whole country.

According to the news program, Kurt had saved the police officer after a shootout in Tennessee.

And there was Sam Evans, who sat on his couch, in his small Tennessee apartment, smiling to himself and unconsciously grazing his fingers over the puckered scar on his chest. He'd known Kurt would go far.

* * *

><p>It happened exactly three years after Kurt had been sent home from the Army.<p>

Three years worth of questions and dreams, of pain and frustration, of moving on and falling back behind; it was three years of wondering if Sam Evans had died and then wondering _how_ he'd died, and then wondering how he could've saved him.

Three years later, Kurt Hummel crossed the street, checking both sides of the road, as he always did, and then looking straight ahead, making sure there was no oncoming traffic. Today was any other day.

When he looked up though, he caught a glimpse of blonde hair. It was too blonde to be natural now, but still, Kurt's heart sped up, as it always did. He was used to it; hoping and dismissing and then forgetting. But still, his eyes followed the blonde man – who wore some comic book shirt and jeans – and of course this wasn't Sam, how could it be? Sam didn't wear that stuff, or …

The man turned and Kurt froze. He was in the middle of the road and suddenly his face was wet and he went back to that night where he couldn't breathe, couldn't make a sound because he – because _they_ would get caught. Suddenly he was there and Sam was there and everything else was crashing down around them because the man he'd once loved was standing on the other side of the street and then he was running towards Kurt and Kurt still couldn't move because it had been three years and Sam was meant to be dead, and forgotten, but he was _here _and he was alive, and still, Kurt remained frozen.

He wasn't sure what he expected when Ex-Soldier Sam Evans came to a halt in front of Kurt. He still stood like someone who had fought in the army, alert of every movement, holding himself in a guarded manner. Not touching Kurt and ignoring the roaring honk of a car speeding past them.

Kurt couldn't tear his gaze from those eyes – _Sam's eyes_ – because for three years, that's all he had wanted. For three years, that's all he had dreamed of and now it was here and the moment was real, and it wasn't over. It was …

It was –

"Hi," Sam breathed.

"Hi," Kurt choked out.

It was just beginning.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: And that's it from me! I hope you all enjoyed it and I wanted to end it on a way that you could interpret what happened next, but you would still be satisfied with it! I'm sorry for the wait, but I hope it was worth it!**

**Thank you all for subscribing and reviewing, you guys are all the best! I honestly love you all. Thank you for sticking with me! :) **


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